


Just Two Friends

by fanfiction_trashh



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock AU - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Bisexual John Watson, Bottom John, Bottom John Watson, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Comfort/Angst, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, Friends to Lovers, Gags, Lube, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Post-Season/Series 01 AU, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Unrequited Lust, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfiction_trashh/pseuds/fanfiction_trashh
Summary: John and Sherlock are best friends who live together and have a crush on each other without them knowing.(Takes place in New York, US; John has grown up American (still with the accent), Sherlock is still from London and is doing college in the US. No detective work (AU))
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Toy Aisle

**Author's Note:**

> This series takes place in NYC, but the flat set up is practically the same, Mrs. Hudson is still floating around somewhere, and the boys don't do any detective work, (though Sherlock still knows Molly, Gram (I MEan Greg), Anderson, and Donovan from Uni.)

Sherlock and John stood in front of the wall, John blushing profusely, while Sherlock smirked in amusement.

"You're the one who wanted to come here, John. You shouldn't feel embarrassed," Sherlock stated smartly, his hands held behind his back as he looked at the merchandise in front of them.

"Shut up," John retorted, dipping his head in shame as an employee came out of the stock room. It's true; he _did_ want to come here, but being here with Sherlock was... Overwhelming, to say the least. The way Sherlock held himself high, while John could feel the sweat rolling down his side, made him feel even more inferior than he usually did around his tall, dark haired friend.

"Would it make you feel better if I was holding a butt plug?"

"Sherlock, I have a spare key to your bedroom and an extensive knowledge of how to get away with _murder_ , so please, shut your mouth."

Sherlock smiled, clearing his throat, and approached the wall of toys, crouching down to open the front of a box. John's eyes followed him, going wide when he saw the object his friend just exposed.

 _"Sherlock!"_ He hissed through his teeth, stepping forward to place his hand on the man's shoulder, hoping to urge him away. Sherlock picked up a plug and held it up to John.

"What about this one? Looks good for beginners..."

John felt his face flush as his best friend stood up in front of him, holding eye contact as he rose.

"Or would you need a larger one?"

John immediately turned around to leave, but Sherlock grabbed his wrist, pulling him back towards the wall. He let go and quickly grabbed a vibrating cock ring, two plugs, (one small, one big,) a vibrator, a masturbator, a glow in the dark dildo, _and_ some lube. He moved quickly and John was surprised at the precision.

"This should do," He stated, dragging a blubbering John Watson across the store while balancing the impressive amount of sex toys in one arm.

John snapped out of it.

"Sherlock! Get your... Hands... Off me!" John whispered, struggling against his friends grip. But it was too late, they were already at the register. (John was grateful there was barely anyone in the store to witness his small fit.)

"Hi! Are you two ready to check out, or do you have a question?" The cashier asked, her eyes sweeping over the toys in Sherlock's arms. John's eyes started watering in embarrassment as he cowered behind his tall friend, who was now asking the woman for the proper batteries.

Sherlock saw John's nervous shuffling out of the corner of his eye, and reached behind him to hold onto his jacket sleeve. John stared in astonishment at Sherlock's outstretched hand.

He had never tried to comfort John before... Or maybe he was comforting himself?   
Speaking of... How much of that stuff on the counter was Sherlock's, and how much was going to him?

For just a moment, he pictured how Sherlock might look, spread out, naked on his bed, with all these toys around him, one or two being put to good use. Before he could think any further, Sherlock perked up, his voice pulling John out of his daze.

"Oh! One more thing! Give me just a second, darling; I'll be right back," He said to the cashier, speed walking away and coming back not five seconds later.

John regretted not slotting his hand into Sherlock's when he had the chance. He also felt a dull stab of jealously when he heard the word 'darling' come out of Sherlock's mouth, not directed at himself, but he shoved those feelings deep down.

John couldn't see what he had gone to get, but caught a glimpse of the word 'gag' on the screen while everything was being rung up.

Sherlock slapped a hundred on the counter, and after she checked to make sure it wasn't counterfeit, he said: "Keep the change" and confidently strode off, with the 6 pound bag of toys in his left hand.

He almost made it out the door, when he realized John wasn't behind him, having frozen in astonishment, and he turned around to grab John's hand and lead him outside.

A taxi was driving by, and Sherlock let go of John's hand to wave it down, feeling lucky that he wouldn't have to see John be even more embarrassed while they walked to the bus stop.

The entire ride home, John fought with himself to either stop feeling the absence of Sherlock's hand in his, or to reach out and touch him again...


	2. A Relaxing Evening

When they got home, Sherlock went straight to John's room, ordering John to put the kettle on in preparation for some tea. John, out of his mind with embarrassment, did as he was told, not even noticing the squeak of his own bedroom door opening down the hall.

Sherlock dumped the contents of the large bag onto John's bed, his eyes glowing bright as he examined these new kinds of 'toys.' He had never actually been in the presence of any kind of sex toy, only seen them in pornography when he was doing 'research,' so this was a great opportunity for him to explore.

He made sure there were batteries in the vibrator and vibrating cock ring, turning them on to test the strength before he placed the lube on John's bedside table and laid all the items neatly out on his bed. He held on to the extra batteries so he could put them where they belonged. Once Sherlock was satisfied with his work, he straightened up and smiled, hearing John's rushed footsteps coming down the hallway. (Right on time, too!)

John stood in the doorway, then stepped inside, his previous blush now absent from his face.

"What are you doing?"

Sherlock walked past him slowly, giving John the chance to look at everything on his bed properly. He noted the way John's eyes dilated in interest and he stood up straight. This was expected, of course, and Sherlock tried his best to hide his knowing smirk before he started talking:

"Just making sure everything's ready for you," He stated, stopping just outside the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. "You don't have to worry about the batteries; I've already put them in for you. Extras will be in the fridge downstairs; use the ball gag if you're gonna be loud, clean all of those before you use them, the lubricant is on your nightstand, don't make too much of a mess, and, oh yeah," He turned around now, slowly closing the door.   
"Thanks for getting the tea ready for me."

Before he left, Sherlock made the mistake of turning back around to smile at John, which made both their hearts thump loudly. He smiled his stupid, smart smile and shut the door all the way, leaving John to rewind the conversation in his head, just so he could try to understand it. He shook his head and turned to look at the mess of items on his bed, feeling his dick stir suddenly at the thought of experiencing each and every one. He had never been confident enough to do so, but he figured the first step was to buy them. 

After taking a good look at his new toys, cleaning them, as Sherlock said, and putting them away, John trudged back downstairs, grabbing himself a cup of tea and sitting across from Sherlock, who was sitting cross - legged in his chair, hands folded in front of him while he was deep in thought. John just sat there and drank his tea peacefully, the silence seeming calming after the day of excitement he had had. 

After he finished his tea, he noticed Sherlock coming out of his trance - like state, so he went and poured him a fresh cup of tea. (His previous cup had been abandoned and was cold and stale by now.) When Sherlock 'woke up,' he was glad to see John bringing him the steaming cup of tea, and smiled warmly at him.

"John."

"Yes?"

"Why do you do these things for me? I didn't even have to ask!"

John handed him the tea and blushed under Sherlock's praise. He sat down and adjusted himself in his seat nervously, his blush increasing as he noticed Sherlock's deductive gaze resting on him.   
"Well, I figured that I should do something for you, since you... did something for me, you know?"

Sherlock nodded and picked up his tea, sipping it lightly and looking over the rim at John, who, surprisingly, didn't look away, despite him shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Thank you, Sherlock. I know it's weird to be so thankful for something so... taboo, but, really, I _am_ thankful."

It was Sherlock's turn to blush, and as he did, John stood up and brought his tea over to the desk beside Sherlock, opening his computer to continue his blog.

"Starting tomorrow, John, you'll be home alone for two weeks. I'm going to visit my parents, as there was an emergency a day ago that needs me and my brother's attending to."

John was shocked at Sherlock's sudden words, and shocked even further at their meaning. He turned around partly, in his seat, and began to open his mouth to ask if everything was alright; if he could help at all, but Sherlock beat him to it.

" _You_ will stay here and take advantage of my absence by using your new gifts, as there is no way for you to help at the moment."

John closed his mouth and smiled, glad that Sherlock would give him time alone without giving him any other tasks. He almost wished he could go with him, just to hear Sherlock and his brother bicker again while he stared out at the English landscape, smiling to himself.

As if Sherlock had read his mind, he spoke up, telling John that there would be another chance for them all to go together.

"We'll take a little family trip; you, Mycroft, and I. Just not this time, Watson."

John turned back around in his seat and smiled to himself, glad that Sherlock had called him family. His smile quickly faded, though. If he thought of him as family, does that mean that they can't be anything more? John cleared his head with another swig of tea and thought carefully about his next words:

"You know how I feel about you calling me by my last name, Holmes."

Sherlock almost choked on his tea. John _never_ said **_his_** last name.

"I'll keep it in mind," Sherlock replied, willing his heated face to cool.

"You said that last time."

For the next half hour, the only noises from the living room were John's quick fingers on the keyboard and Sherlock occasionally shifting in his seat. After John was finished with his draft, he leaned back in his chair to stretch and accidentally rested his arm on top of Sherlocks soft curls.

Sherlock filed away the feeling of John's warmth against his head, but it was over far too quick for his liking. John pulled away, said sorry, and told Sherlock he was headed to take a shower. Sherlock just nodded, afraid that if he spoke, more than words would come out.

He wanted to feel John's hands in his hair again, and he made it his goal to get it to happen again sometime before he left. As he saw John walk from his room to the bathroom, he couldn't help but imagine John, standing under the showerhead with his head leaned back on Sherlock's chest while he massaged shampoo into his scalp. He pictured himself running his hand down John's torso and resting it just at the base of his dick, one finger teasing the hot skin there while John rubbed his ass against Sherlock's front. 

Sherlock was startled out of his fantasy by the shower starting up, followed by three quick knocks on the door.

Mrs. Hudson always has the worst timing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: batteries last longer when they're stored in the fridge!!


	3. Quarrel (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John in the shower... But Sherlock doesn't know what privacy is, and invites himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-----------Smut warning!!
> 
> Also this chapter is long... most of them will be like this because I never know when to end chapters and I suck at endings too...  
> not too proud of this one, but it gets better (i think)
> 
> \-----------Smut warning!!

After locking the door, John sighed as he tugged off his shirt, grateful Mrs. Hudson was here to distract Sherlock. He knew he had two whole weeks to use his new toys, but he needed _some_ kind of release after his stressful day. He shrugged off his jeans and looked down at the toy he had managed to smuggle into the bathroom under his towel. It was the masturbator Sherlock bought him.

Sherlock. _Sherlock_ bought these things for him.

It was a rubber tube you were meant to fuck into, with one end having a hole styled as an anus, and the other end just being flat, with no hole. This one was clear and had a lumpy texture on the inside for stimulation. You're supposed to hold it with your fist and use it to enhance your masturbation technique, but John had seen a few videos where people had taped it down to a table so they could fuck into it without their hands.

He grabbed the toy and gave it a few quick test squeezes as he stepped into the shower. It was firm. He didn't want to get right into it though, and still had yet to make himself hard, so he placed it on top of the spout for the bath, watching as the mist from the shower made it glisten.

John washed his hair slowly, teasing himself with his own touch, even when he wasn't touching any of his sensitive areas. He ran his hands up his sides and shivered at the cold contrast it gave against the hot water. His hands rested on his nipples, and he gently rubbed them with the pads of his fingers.

Soon, he figured he should get on with it, and he looked down to see that he had grown almost fully hard in anticipation. He was excited to try his new toy...

John leaned down to grab it, then leaned against the wall, his dick twitching from the cold tile against his back. He found, again, that he really liked the temperature contrast. 'Maybe temperature play is something I might like...' he thought, wrapping his right hand around his dick.

The water was pouring down on his front half, helping to somewhat lubricate his prick as his hand gripped tighter and rubbed up and down, squeezing at the head every few strokes.

Soon, John found himself resting his head against the wall and biting his lip to keep quiet. He focused in on the sounds coming from outside the bathroom, and heard Mrs. Hudson, still lecturing Sherlock on something that was probably considered common knowledge to the rest of the world. John almost chuckled at the thought, then remembered he _actually_ had this time alone, with Sherlock fully occupied.   
At least Sherlock wouldn't barge in like last time...

John looked down at his cock, removing his hand and watching as it twitched in response. Before he placed the sleeve on his cock, he held it up to the water, letting it fill, then draining it.

He lined himself up and closed his eyes, picturing one of his favorite porn stars. He rubbed the tip over her ass and she wiggled her hips, willing him to just get it on with... So he did. He thrust into her, the tip of his dick burning briefly with pleasure as the toy squeezed around him. He accidentally let out a moan and he opened his eyes and placed his hand over his mouth. His hips gyrated in circles and he looked down at his dick buried in this strikingly hot toy.

Ohhh it had been so long since he had a good fuck, or even touched himself, and the way this toy was gripping him and perfectly mimicking the feel of a tight virgin ass... was _brilliant._

John squeezed the toy around himself and pushed in as far as he could, watching the tip of his cock strain the rubber on the other end, begging to push through.

He started thrusting again, slowly this time, and found himself picturing a handsome twink squirming underneath him on his knees. The poor boy's begging to be touched as John speeds up, groaning lightly at the sensation of the boy's ass tightening around him.

John got on his knees so he could better immerse himself in this fantasy he'd discovered. He slid his hand along the boys back and gripped onto his damp, dark locks of hair. He took a deep breath and doubled over, fucking his boy deep and fast. John's dick started to twitch and he realized with a jolt that he was close to coming. He re-immersed himself in his fantasy and found himself still tugging on this strangers hair, pulling him up against his chest and sinking his teeth into his shoulder.

The scent surrounding him was comfortable, familiar, and _so_ sexy. He buried his face in the mystery boy's neck, smelling how delicious he was.

"I'm close," He whispered roughly into his hallucination's ear. It took him by surprise when it talked back to him, weak and panting, his voice dripping with need... _Sherlock's_ voice.

"Cum in me, John. _Please_ , fill me up."

His voice was hot and heavy and rough, and his pleading tone gave away how badly he needed it. This was what sent John over the edge.

John's hips stuttered and he bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from yelling as he came inside the toy, still picturing that he was holding the boy (totally not Sherlock... He is _n_ _ot_ going to admit to that) and rutting hard into his prostate.

John's grip tightened and he slowly kept jerking himself with the toy while his eyes rolled into the back of his head in pleasure. He looked down at his cock, twitching and pulsing inside of the fake asshole; filling it up, and his surroundings came back to him.

He was on his knees in the bathtub, the water running down his back while he tried to catch his breath. There was something familiar about the scent seeping through his nostrils, and he realized, with a wave of regret, that he had used Sherlock's shampoo.

That explains the unusual mental image...  
Wait.  
Did he really just cum to the thought of filling up his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, with his own seed?

His dick twitched in response, his body telling him that yes, he did, and it's _gonna_ happen again, and he _**will**_ enjoy it.

John pulled his softening dick out of the masturbator and watched the creampie flow out. Another image of his best friend, sweaty and used, flashed in his head, but he shook it off and rinsed out the toy, regretting how long he had been on his knees.

A sharp knock sounded through the bathroom, and John responded with a "Yea?"

Sherlock's voice spoke through the door.   
"Are you alright? I thought I heard you groaning..."

John mentally facepalmed and turned to face the water, trying hard to wash the mental filth off of himself.

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm alright. Get the takeout menu ready for us, yeah?" John replied, keeping his tone steady so Sherlock would have a harder time 'deducing' John's previous actions

Sherlock was silent on the other side of the door, then John heard a _click._ Sherlock... just _unlocked_ the door... From the outside. John wasn't surprised he could do such a thing, but he _was_ filled with a sense of panic. He rushed to turn off the water and grab his towel, but by the time he sheepishly peeked out from behind the curtain to get it, Sherlock was already standing inside and holding his towel out to him.

Their eyes locked for a moment and John snatched the towel away from him, hiding behind the curtain once again.

"Sherlock, you don't just come into the bathroom when there's someone in here!" John yelled, aggressively drying himself off. He looked down at his toy, clean and wet, and realized that he had placed it on the tap where Sherlock _definitely_ could have seen it when he was getting his towel.

"You were touching yourself, weren't you," Sherlock stated. He hadn't moved from his spot outside of the curtain.

"Get out." John stated sharply, grabbing his toy and flinging the water off of it, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Why couldn't he just have a normal flatmate? One that respects personal boundaries, please?

"Was it good? I assume it was, from all the noise you made. I had to talk poor Mrs. Hudson's ears off to make sure she didn't hear you in here."

By now, John was furious; mad that he thought he could have this bit of privacy, and frustrated with himself that he had pictured _Sherlock,_ of all people, underneath him, along with being upset that he had let himself sit on his knees like that, because he was already feeling the pain seep through his bones. 

"Can you even hear me? Get out! Let me _at least_ dry off in peace."

"John, I don't see why you couldn't have just waited for her to leave. _I_ don't mind hearing you every once in a while, but Mrs. _Hudson?_ I thought you were much more careful than that, Watson," Sherlock continued, moving to wipe the mirror of it's condensation, fluffing his hair, then turning back to face the shower.

John couldn't stand this. His whole day, full of experimentation, submission, and uncertainty, was now being plagued by Sherlock Holmes, who was trying to talk to him about his masturbation habits.

He felt his blood start to boil, his jaw clenching shut. His old, teenage _/_ army anger flooded him, and he wrapped the towel around himself, flung open the curtain and yelled, right into Sherlock's face.

"William Sherlock, GET OUT!"

He realized his mistake as soon as the words came out of his mouth, as the look on Sherlock's face said it all. His terrified expression: jaw dropped, eyes wide, his posture rigid in the worst way...

Before John could say he was sorry, Sherlock's posture slowly relaxed in defeat and he walked out, avoiding John's eyes as he walked to his own room.

Sherlock seemed to take John's anger away with him, and John felt it drain from him at an alarming pace. John waited until he heard Sherlock's bedroom door close before he unclenched his fists and his jaw and finally stepped out of the bath.

His mind was struggling to keep the gears turning as John walked to his room, holding his towel around his waist, and trudging to his closet to get clothes on. After he had done so, he stood in front of Sherlock's door, hand raised, ready to knock.

He listened closely and heard nothing.

Before he could knock, Sherlock's voice rung out, crisp and clear.   
"Come in, John."

Of course he would have heard John come down the hall... He took a deep breath and opened the door, turning to face Sherlock on his bed.

He had changed out of his day clothes and into a fine silk robe, a deep chestnut color that didn't quite match Sherlock, but complimented his skin. Speaking of skin; it ended about knee high, and the way Sherlock was spread out on his bed made John's eyes instinctively shoot up from Sherlock's legs to his face, scared he would catch a glimpse of something he... _didn't_ want to see.

It was just barely covering him, his chest mostly exposed, showing off his fine chest hair and soft nipples...

John wanted to shake his head clear of the thoughts that were starting to form, but Sherlock had already caught him staring.

"Come sit down John," Sherlock said, patting the bed while he kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling. John did as he was told and sat down, turning slight to face Sherlock as he planned his words carefully in his head.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry I yelled at you. We- _I've_ had a long day and..."   
Sherlock gently grabbed John's hand and looked up at him, prompting him to continue as he toyed with John's fingers.

If John didn't know any better, he would have pulled his hand away and scolded Sherlock for touching him without permission; especially in such a seemingly intimate way. But John, instead, blushed and looked down at where their hands were touching.

"Forgive me, please...?" He said, his unoccupied hand clenching slightly.

Sherlock shifted behind him, and John didn't care to look, but then Sherlock was in front of him.

"I forgive you. I was the one who walked in on you after all," Sherlock stated, letting loose a blinding smile. It only lasted a second, then he was turning towards the door, his robe fluttering to the side briefly. He motioned for John to go though the doorway first, signaling that their talk was to be moved. "I didn't know which takeout menu you wanted, so I put out all of them. Is that okay?"

John smiled at his flatma- _friend,_ and stood up, following him to the kitchen.

"Yes, Sherlock. It's perfect."

Before John let Sherlock follow, he turned around and placed a hand on Sherlocks chest, stopping him in his tracks.

"But... First, put on some clothes." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not proud of the ending, but I really liked the smut concept (the fantasies and imagination / picturization changing by the second) and I'm a lil surprised no one has used Sherlock's full name to their advantage. 'William Sherlock' just sounds powerful!


	4. A Small Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small talk between the boys... and possibly a large realization on John's part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter :)

"John? You forgot this in the shower."

John peeked out from behind his newspaper, his eyes going wide. Sherlock was holding John's masturbator; the one he had used in the shower just a few hours ago. What was most surprising however, was that Sherlock was bare naked.

John stood up and covered his eyes with the newspaper.

"Christ, Sherlock! Where are your clothes?"

"In the bathroom, where I left them."

"Why are they in the bathroom, and not _here_ on your _body?!"_

"Take a guess, John. The shower is running, yet here I am, naked, delivering to you something you had left _in_ the shower.What _ever_ could I have been doing that required me to be naked?"

So he was getting in the shower and found John's toy... Great. John shook his head and lowered the newspaper, keeping his eyes closed as he held out his hand hesitantly.

"You didn't _use it_ , did you?" He asked.

"No I didn't use it," Sherlock said, his voice filled with disbelief and disgust. He slapped the toy down into John's hand. "Remember to put it away next time." He started to walk away when John opened his eyes and locked them on Sherlock's naked boy.

His back was a blank canvas John wanted to mark; a flat expanse of land John wanted to build upon. His ass was mostly flat, too, but John would love to get his hands down there. (Though, that's something he would never admit to wanting.) He thought, maybe, Sherlock would call him out on him looking, being the genius mastermind he was, but he didn't; he just strut his way out of the front room, leaving John to stand there and think about... well, everything.

Not only did he get Sherlock to buy him sex toys, which he then used while he imagined he was _fucking_ Sherlock, he just stared at his, _very_ bare ass and pictured himself holding onto it while he rutted their cocks together. 

This was now the third (maybe fourth or fifth) time John had pictured himself doing these things to his best friend _/_ roommate

It seems John Watson might be gay...


End file.
